#brawl x self insert

[deskraven]

Someone commissioned me to draw their tfsona with Combaticons

[ink1gww]

It took longer than expected but I finally finished this ^w^

[w1yre]

yayayayaya they’re done!!

anyways thought this piece was good :3

yeah it’s cringe but guess what im free

[moonflower-song]

“ wanna listen to your hands soothe , listen to your heart beating “

HUZZAH >_^ selfshipping is real !!

[shesaloserhesaid]

Your blog is so cute!! Can I get more info about your s/i?? They are adorable :33

HII! thank you so much! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

OF COURSE! sorry if some parts of her story don't make sense, i'm not exactly caught up on brawl stars lore ;v;

this is my brawl stars self insert alfie! during daytime, she's starr park's tour guide, and sometimes helps r-t as a supervisor to make sure nobody breaks the rules. (or even the law...)

more abt alfie below the cut!

once her shift is over, she sings in a rock band with her friends! but she mostly tries to keep it a secret. wouldn't want their music to draw people's attention away from the main attraction, afterall!

alfie completes the starr hub trio, with larry, lawrie, and r-t! even though she enjoys her job, what she enjoys the most about it is spending quality time with her co-workers.

she's best friends with colette! when there's not many people at starr park, alfie goes to the gift shop to see her.

alfie is also a metalhead, and therefore, is a huge fangirl of draco. she loves gushing about him to colette and edgar, but r-t and the twins have none of it. she wishes to be like him someday.

might add more to her later and her in-game mechanics if i make her a brawler!

[lieutenantducky6]

I WANT TO PLAY MY FAVORITE BRAWLER AGAIN!!!!

This isn't fair😭

(This is me coping🙂)

[aquillaac3]

I'm sorry you guys, I really want to draw Welcome Home related but Doug have me on chokehold 24/7😫😫😫

ALSO

If there's no fanfic of him, FINE, Chai can only feed my desires.

[g00mbers]

Another day , Another gay , trust me guys i'm a profesional and best way of flirting is just missing every single sign and staring at them like a creature /j

[rei-comfort-zone]

Showing one of my bfs the games on my phone (is pure brainrot and I actually hate/love Brawl Stars)

My favorite skin so far from the game tho, Dylan def wouldn't match my freak about games

But I like to think that the boys would create accounts to play all together😿

[dwaekkicidal]

Hii 🫶🏻

First off: I have to tell you your Han series has me in a chokehold I CAN NOT get over it! 😍😍 it just hit all the right spots 😍😫

I don’t know if your request are open but if they are could I request with Han and female reader where Han is jealous/possessive of his girlfriend? Maybe because she is still in the same friend group with her ex or if you prefer give it any other motivation. It can be either swf or nswf, do as you prefer really (but if it is nswf could you make the reader to have a big breast and Han with a 🍒fixation maybe?)

Anyway I love you blog! Have a nice day! 🫶🏻😘

me when i get to self insert myself into a fic cause i have big boobies😼 ALSO TY ASDHJKASDJK i kept feeling really insecure about that series but its getting so much love :''))) im happy you are enjoying it as well as my blog <3

Cherries

˚ʚHan Jisung x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.8k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, reader has big boobs but no other physical features described, ex has they/them pronouns, kinda out of character ji?, exhibitionism, nipple play, brief mentions of p in v

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han’s eyes were narrowed, so sharp that you could cut diamonds with it. He watched intently as you conversed casually with your friend group. It’s not something he thought he would ever see himself getting genuinely mad over, but the familiar face in the crowd made his blood boil.  Had this exact situation taken place more than a year ago, Jisung would have been an anxious mess. Probably would be fiddling with his jacket’s sleeves and restlessly bouncing his leg while his mind went to the worst places possible. But now, after dating you for over 2 years, he was more confident in himself.

Don’t be fooled! He still gets jealous easily. Very easily… but it doesn’t make him as angsty as it used to. Nowadays all he feels is anger. The only thoughts that fill his mind are ones along the lines of “How dare that person talk to my girlfriend like that. Who do they think they are?” while strangers blatantly flirted with you, and he would make fun of them with words like “Did you see their face when you rejected them?? Fucking loser lol” when you would make a face and deny them before running back into his arms.

But those were with strangers. Not with your stupid ex. The same ex who made you hesitant going into this relationship with Han in the first place. And the same ex that managed to snake their way back into your friend group. While his thoughts were about the same, Han wasn’t very keen on taking his eyes off of them. The trust was still there with you, but he knew better than to trust your ex. The slimy, sugar-coated lies they told the group wouldn’t work on him. 

A hand being placed on his shoulder cut him from his thoughts. He was in full fight mode and completely missed the way you walked up to where he was on the couch. The game room the group had rented out for a few hours was filled with their booming voices and a random playlist off of somebody's Spotify. Some people were playing pool while the others stood nearby to watch and instigate mini brawls here and there. He was the only one who idly sat on the couch, drink in hand.

You knew he was in guard dog mode because of your ex’s presence so you made sure to break your attention from the group regularly to check up on him. Only this time he accidentally ignored you, so you made your way towards him. “You okay, Ji?” You smiled sideways and tilted your head, stealing a sip from his soda and settling yourself between his legs. Immediately all the anger drained from his body and he smiled up at you. His hands wrapped around your waist and he sat up, pulling you closer as he nodded.

“Yeah... Sorry haha.” You smiled sweetly and placed his cup on the coffee table, wrapping your arms around his neck once the cup was safely set down. “It’s okay, I know the situation is a little uncomfortable.” You whisper and tighten your hold around him, squeezing him lovingly and giggling to yourself when he rests his cheek against your chest. He grins like an idiot at his personal pillow and shoves his face harder until you eventually get red in the face and push him back. “Hey now… We’re still in public.”

“That can change. Let’s go home right now and I’ll show you a good time?” He smirks and pulls you closer. His chin rests against the top of your chest and he looks up at you with puppy eyes and his signature pout. “C’monn… I’ve been good all day.” His hands drop down to your hips, digging his fingers into them as his voice drops an octave, “‘Promise to show you a good time. You know Hannie always takes care of his baby-”

Your name gets called and the both of you jump. You chuckle and turn in his grasp, now standing sideways to respond to the person. He let his eyes return to your group, simply curious about who you interrupted his begging but was made even angrier by the expression that painted your ex’s face. They were frowning deeply behind their drink and glaring at the two of you, obviously wired up about his hands that were wrapped around you. Han stared back with the same fire, knowing all too well what the other person wanted. But then he smiled to himself.

As you casually chatted with your friend, Han let his hand fall down to your waist. He did it at an angle that only showed it off to your ex, making them watch as his hand slipped under your shirt. The fabric bulged out as he grabbed a handful of your tits, kneading the flesh there as they held eye contact. Eye contact that was held as he leaned in, hiding his face from everybody else as he wrapped his lips around your clothed nipple. He made a show of even sticking his tongue out and licking your nipple over your shirt while his other hand continued to squeeze the other boob from, what seemed like, the inside of your bra

Han’s ego inflated to the size of the sun as he watched your ex’s jaw drop. Their eyes went up to your face and, besides the blush that covered it, there wasn’t a single reaction. You were so used to it that the obscene action didn’t even make you flinch. Which only pissed your ex off more. They huffed and shook their head, walking to the door and mumbling something along the lines of ‘Fuck this.’ While everybody’s attention turned to the first person to leave the function, you turned to your boyfriend and shook your head at him. “Really? All that about behaving too.”

“Not my fault their edgy ass didn't like it. I licked it so it’s mine.” You laughed and parted from your boyfriend, returning back to the pool table. After that, it didn’t take long for everybody to separate. The people who didn’t have the balls to be the first to leave shortly made their way out after your ex did. Your boyfriend was one of them as well and quickly made it obvious to you that he genuinely wanted to leave soon, so you both bid your farewells and made your way outside.

The second your food hit the concrete, Jisung dragged you to the nearest empty alleyway. One that, if the sun wasn’t already set, would have been very easy to look down and see the two of you. Alas, your boyfriend did not have a single care about that. If anything, the thought of somebody seeing you only egged him on.

Han shoves you into the brick wall, slamming his lips against yours and running his hands all over your body. They started at your thighs, where he squeezed the flesh of your thighs before sliding up to your hips and doing the same. Then his hands rested at your hips for a moment. He was too distracted pushing his tongue past your lips to continue on with his expedition. Once you both found a comfortable rhythm and your hands ran up his arms, he started moving again.

This time he slowly ghosted his hands up your stomach and stopped at your chest where he squeezed your boobs tightly. Then he pulls away from your lips, smirking at you and pecking your cheek before dipping his head down. You feel his lips against your neck and you moan quietly before rolling your neck to the side, giving him more space to work with. He doesn't linger there for long though. As much as your boyfriend loves marking you up, he only leaves a single one to your neck before he dips even lower.

He leaves a trail of kisses on his way to your boobs and, before you have the chance to react or push him away, his hands tug your shirt up to your neck. “Ji- Wait until we get home, baby. We shouldn’t do this he-” He cuts you off by nibbling your right nipple through your bra. His other hand slides under the bottom hem of your bra, grabbing a handful of your boob and rubbing that nipple between his middle knuckles. You moan loudly and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging it in hopes that he would pull away but also stop and just take you to do this at home.

He moans against your clothed nipple and licks it seductively through the fabric, looking up at you with those brown boba eyes. Despite his lack of words, you already know what those pretty eyes want. You bite your lip and nervously look towards the entrance of the alley, watching as cars dart back and forth. But no people. “F-Fuck. Fine. But make it quick!” He smiles widely against you and nods.

His head pulls away from you for a moment, only to allow him to reach around and undo your bra. He doesn’t even bother taking it off of you, he just pushes it up with your shirt and dives back in. “Mine.” A loud moan leaves your lips as he suddenly bites the side of your tit, then he apologetically licks over his teeth marks. “Yours.” He smiles and grabs both of your boobs, fondling them as he alternates his attention to each nipple.

“God. I fucking love your tits, Jagi. And they’re all mine, right?” You nod and throw your head back as you moan, gripping his strands even tighter than before. He moans and bucks his hips into the air. “Answer me.” One of his hands moves down to your thighs and slides up under your skirt. It dips deeper, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties before wrapping around behind you and grabbing a handful of your ass cheek. “Jagiya… Say. It. A-gain.” He lands a sloppy slap to your ass with each word, smiling into your boob when your legs clench together.

“‘M yours, Ji! Please, babyy~” He wastes no time after that, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to poke out. The hand that was on your ass pumps his dick a few times as his other pushes your leg up, holding it up and giving him space to fuck into you. His mouth finally releases your nipple in favor of poking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he pushes in. Both of you moan at the feeling and lock eyes for a moment before he leans in and pushes his lips against yours.

He pulls away and leans down again, wrapping his lips around your neglected nipple. Then he tests the water with slow thrusts. Ones that speed up rather fast once he realizes how deep he can go in this position. The grip he has on your hips is bruising as he starts to slam his hips into yours.

“Mine. All fucking mine.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

[zqmbiescorpse]

GLADIATOR, PART 1

johanna mason x female reader

a/n: i'm listing tags below because they give a good description, include important information and this was originally intended for ao3. for the first part and for some of the second, johanna isn't there because i wanted to do some world building and you, the reader, has somewhat of a backstory and a last name but this is not at all a self insert i promise.

summary: after winning the 72nd hunger games, quite a name had been made for you in the capitol - quickly becoming a favourite across panem. because of this, naturally, you find yourself thrown back into the horror of the games due to the 3rd quarter quell, representing district 5 one last time. though, not all is lost, fellow tribute and close friend, johanna mason of district 7, finds herself in the same position.

tags: graphic depictions of violence (sometimes), johanna mason, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason x female reader, catching fire, mockingjay part 1, mockingjay part 2, 72nd hunger games, 75th hunger games, gore, eye gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing, disabled reader, female reader, reader is missing an eye, reader is missing limbs, missing fingers, traumatic events, blood, choking, johanna mason needs a hug, rebellion, slow burn, mutual pining, scared of feelings, fluff, angst, making out, kissing, confessions, peeta has his prosthetic leg, maybe smut idk, tension, awkwardness, wlw, i love johanna so much

warnings for this part: gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing (i'm sorry), murder, traumatic events, choking, suffocation, stabbing, blood (tbf it is the hunger games)

wordcount: 1.01k

(part 2) (masterlist)

Weapons long disregarded, tossed away into the sand, leaving you both unarmed - only your fists, or what you had left of them, could be used to beat the other to death. He was bulky, and taller than you. Still, you managed to have him pinned to the floor once more, with your hands wrapped tightly around his neck, slowly crushing his windpipe. You hated every second of it, the fear in his wide eyes looking up at yours, a disturbed red creeping into the whites.

Your grip wasn't as tight as it could've been, with only eight fingers, the middle and index missing on your right hand, your dominant hand. Hell, the pinky on your left was hanging on by what must have been a thread, only a red string of skin. You decided it was seven fingers remaining, desperately thinking of anything else aside from the spluttering boy beneath you. He was so close to death, you knew it and so did he. 

With nothing else to save himself, the male district one tribute reached for your head, both his dirty, grazed hands placed on either side. They were large, nearly covering your entire face, and undoubtedly strong. You became more panicked, unsure of what he was going to do next, however, as you attempted to apply even more pressure to his neck, he also began to squeeze.

An eruption of agony shot through the right side of your skull, his thumbs burying deeper and deeper into your eye. For a brief moment, your grip weakened due to the unbearable burning sensation coming from the socket, which had been invaded by the boy's chipped fingernails, stabbing and squishing at your eye. This gave him enough of an opportunity to sit upright, gaining back control of the brawl, continuing to push even harder; really just digging his thumbs in as hard as he possibly could.

You were screaming now, the sounds causing your throat to feel sore and rough, though, how could it compare to the searing pain you felt elsewhere? Your eye was well out of place, edging forever inward, your vision on the right side now completely black, blinded. He started to scream too, echoing those of a primal being on a path to victory after suffering through a tormenting battle. The force was so intense you began to feel an uncomfortable sensation build up rapidly besides the excruciating pain; your eyeball was going to pop. Burning hot blood was gushing down the side of your face, running down all over your fellow tribute and falling down into his mouth, coating his teeth and his tongue with a thick red ooze. 

You couldn't take it anymore, removing your hands from him in a desperate attempt to save whatever mush would be left in your socket in hopes of a salvage. Unfortunately for you, reaching up to claw at your own eye left you perfectly vulnerable and open. With one last push, he stuck his fingers as far as he could, such an immense amount of force you could've sworn the boy was moments away from crushing your skull - poking and prodding at the sensitive nerves within your damaged socket.

Another strangled screech violently came from within you as you felt a squelching burst trigger pure anguish, wet tears and warm blood trickling together down your face - mixing together to cause a disgusting mess. Too absorbed in the torturous suffering, you failed to remember the other blood thirsty tribute still present, who was now preparing to finally take your life.

You stumbled back, a new sense of disorientation upon you as you tried to put distance between yourself and the approaching Grim Reaper, the boy taking his time getting closer, a weird expression contorting into his features; the realisation that he was enjoying this made you crumble. Shuffling backwards frantically, one hand digging through the sand, the other glued to where your eye should be whilst the crimson substances flowed between your three fingers at an unstoppable pace.

So much pain. So much exhaustion.

The whole fight had been intense and raw, seemingly going on for hours. Scrapes and gashes littered your frail, disfigured body and your bones ached beyond belief. If that smug fuck hadn't made his way towards you any quicker, your chances of bleeding to death were a lot higher than dying by his hands. It deeply disturbed you how that same boy was powerless beneath you just minutes ago, terrified and so desperately wanting for his life. Then, there he was, smiling like a lunatic, caught up in the victory that hadn't yet arrived - seeming overjoyed to witness your suffering.

An early celebration, indeed. Part of you, at that moment, thanked any higher power you could think of, eternally grateful that the Careers couldn't help but be arrogant assholes who view themselves as undefeatable kings and queens. In the time wasted by the boy from district one strolling his way over to you, you had managed to come across your weapon, a long sort of sickle, sticking out of the sand not too far behind you.

You waited, fingers twitching at your side. You didn't want to reveal the weapon concealed by your back at the moment, but rather, let the foolish boy get closer. He should've ended you when he had the chance.

Mustering all the strength you had left, you ignored the throbbing that was pounding against your skull and swiftly grabbed the curved sword, hand tight around the handle as you lunged forward, knocking the tribute back down into the sand - beneath you for the final time.

Not an ounce of hesitation prevented you from what would soon haunt your every thought. At that time, you had no needs other than the one to end this, every sensation in your body numb, apart from a blazing desire in the pit of your stomach. The sharp blade plunged deep into his chest over and over and over again until the cannon boomed in the far distance, signalling his death. You had won. 

[mynicosensesaretingling]

The Parc Fermé Spectacle

A Fernando Alonso crack fic

summary: After mistakingly being put in parc fermé , Fernando duels Brad in a wrench fight.

note: don’t ask me anything, this is an absolute crack fic written in my notes app.

ENJOY x

——-

It was a blistering day at the Hungarian Grand Prix, but the real heat was in the pit lane, where tensions between Fernando Alonso and Brad Pitt had reached their boiling point. What started as a simple misunderstanding with a movie car had spiraled into an all-out grudge match.

Fernando climbed out of his car, tossing his helmet aside as his eyes blazed with fury. Making his way over to the Apex car, he grabbed a massive wrench from a toolbox, twirling it like a seasoned knight wielding a broadsword. “You’ve messed with the wrong driver, Pitt!” He bellowed. “You better prepare yourself, because today you face the Matador of the Asphalt!”

Brad, never one to back down from a fight, grabbed a similarly oversized wrench, brandishing it with the confidence of someone currently filming their self-insert dream scenario . “Bring it on, Alonso! Let’s see if you’re as tough off the track as you are on it!”

Noticing the brawl between the men, mechanics and crew members quickly formed a circle around them, eagerly anticipating the duel of the century. Bets were placed, phones were out, and chants were started.

With a dramatic clash, their wrenches met in mid-air, the sound echoing through the pit lane like a thunderclap. Fernando moved with the precision and grace of a dancer, his wrench a blur as he launched a series of rapid strikes. Brad parried wildly, his eyes wide with a mix of determination and growing panic.

“You call that a swing?” Fernando taunted, easily dodging Brad’s clumsy attempts. “My grandmother could hit harder!”

Brad, now red-faced and desperate, attempted a spin move, only to lose his balance and stumble , face first, into a stack of tires. The pit crew erupted in laughter, but Fernando wasn’t done yet. He leaped onto a nearby crate, using it as a makeshift podium.

“Is this the best Hollywood has to offer?” Fernando shouted, dramatically pointing at Brad, before executing a flawless backflip off the toolbox and landing perfectly behind the actor. Before Brad could react, Fernando lightly tapped on his shoulder with the wrench. “Tag, you’re it,” he said with a smirk.

Brad whirled around, swinging his wrench with all his might, but Fernando was quicker. He dodged Brad’s wild swings with the agility of a cat, occasionally spinning around in a mock dance-like fashion.

“Careful now, Pitt,” Fernando taunted as he dodged another overzealous strike. “You’re making this look like a bad B-movie fight scene. Where’s the stunt double when you need one?”

Brad, fuming and clearly flustered, tried to recover his composure. “I’m just warming up!” he yelled, lunging forward again.

Fernando sidestepped effortlessly and used the wrench to gently tap Brad on the nose. “Oh, is that what they call ‘action’ in Hollywood? I’d hate to see what you call ‘drama.’ Maybe it involves a lot of falling down and looking surprised?”

The pit lane crowd burst into laughter, some doubling over as Brad, now red-faced and visibly irate, tried to mount a comeback. He lunged with renewed determination, only for Fernando to casually step aside and give Brad a playful pat on the back with the wrench.

“You know, I’ve seen more finesse in a bumper car derby,” Fernando said, barely suppressing his chuckles. “Is this your ‘intense’ acting face? Because it looks like you’re trying to remember your lines.” Brad, clearly frustrated and out of breath, made one last desperate attempt to regain control. He charged forward, but Fernando sidestepped with the ease of someone casually stepping around a puddle.

In a burst of creativity, Fernando grabbed a nearby spare tire and rolled it towards Brad, who tripped over it and went tumbling into a stack of toolboxes.

As Brad lay there, dazed and disheveled, Fernando couldn't help but notice his dramatic, almost theatrical fall.

With a dramatic flourish, Fernando raised his wrench high above his head and surveyed Brad with an exaggerated critical eye. He paused for a moment, then walked over to the checkered flag that had been left nearby, originally meant for celebrating race wins. He picked it up with a grand, sweeping gesture.

“This is truly a sight to behold!” Fernando announced loudly, waving the checkered flag like a matador ready to end a bullfight. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a champion of the clumsy! An artist of the absurd!”

He circled Brad, twirling the flag with the precision of a seasoned performer. “Behold the dramatic pose!” Fernando declared, waving the flag dramatically above Brad’s head. “A true masterclass in unintentional comedy!”

Brad, still sprawled on the ground, glared up at Fernando with a mixture of embarrassment and fury. “Okay, okay, I get it!” he shouted. “You’ve proven your point. Can we call it a day?”

Fernando paused, striking a pose with the flag as if he were declaring victory in an epic showdown. Lowering the flag, Fernando extended a hand to help Brad up. “Come on, Pitt,” he said, his voice full of mock warmth. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for your next role—perhaps as a human prop in a slapstick comedy?”

[ink1gww]

More oc x canon drawings ヽ(･∀･)ﾉ

[brawlina]

Step aside I have a lot of Colette fanfic writer headcannons and you WILL hear about them.

Colette Fanfiction Headcannons

Colette was a fanfiction writer long before she joined the Brawl Stars Fandom. So it was easy for her to transition into writing about brawlers.

Technically writing about Brawl Stars in universe is RPF (real person fiction), but Colette has long overcome the initial hesitation in writing about that.

Her writing style is quite nice, but is often littered with spelling mistakes and formatting issues. She tends to fix them after she's already published the chapter. She could stop and make sure that everything is legible before she publishes, but she just gets too excited and wants to publish things as soon as she's written it out.

She did not stop writing fanfiction when she became a brawler herself. Are you crazy? Now she has ALL the material she needs to make ALL the stories she wants!

She finds its hilarious that all of her self-insert Brawl Stars Fics are technically true, but also that she herself is a character there! Who would've thunk?

Colette likes gifting her friends fanfics! Sometimes it's for special occasions, but she just likes to do it for fun.

While her online friends are always delighted to receive such gifts, her irl brawler friends can have all sorts of mixed emotions about it. Most think it's kind of creepy, but others find it silly or weirdly flattering.

Some brawlers have asked her to write fanfiction for them though. She won't name names but they're usually the ones who have a massive ego that needs satiated or someone who just wants to be with the one.

Some of Colette's online friends and fans have suspected that she and the brawler are the same person, but she's never confirmed it. She WANTS to confirm it but alas contracts prevent her from doing so.

Colette can and will ramble about the Fandom specific tropes and various dramas happening in the fanfic side of the Fandom. Unfortunately, Edgar is often the frequent target of these tirades.

She suspects that some of the people on the forums are also brawlers and is trying to find out who they are. She has dedicated half of the gift shops corkboard to this cause.

Colette can and will read anything. She's been online long enough that nothing really phases her and that she doesn't mind having to dig for scraps of her favorite characters.

There were MANY Reader x Piper first on her account. Something that Rico wasn't too pleased by when he found out.

Colette would title all of her fics after song lyrics

She has a stash of fanfictions that she knows will do 100+ psychic damage to any of the brawlers in it if they read it. Is she planning to use this? It would probably depend on her mood.

One of the rare few breed who actually gets fanfics done. Oneshots and multichapter alike.

She probably carries at least a 1/4th of all the fanfics in the Brawl Stars fandomon her own

Management actually has to be careful around her lest she accidentally spill a surprise before it's officially announced.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Cheering Up A Depressed Andy

(Slight) Andy X FemReader

Ratings: T+

Warnings: Drinking, insults, mentions of death, slight spoilers

Word Count: 1.7k

(A/N:) I am obsessed with Undead Unluck right now and I had to write a self indulgent Andy fic! I do ship him and Fuuko really hard but Andy is too perfect not to crush on. So while I have a ship I still want to enjoy some reader inserts with this handsome and unhinged dude! So this happened as I was so excited about a little of Andy's past getting animated! I had a little too much fun with the dialog too but I hope you all enjoy it! Until next time happy reading!

~Countess

Being a bounty hunter had it's perks though it was one of the toughest jobs offered in the growing country you live in. You had met your fair share of folks and about took out as many as well. The types of people you hunted, weren't like the upstanding citizens in normal towns you passed through. So they really weren't missed and kept their would be victims safe another day. You had just gotten finished with a particularly large bounty, so after collecting your reward you made the decision that you deserved a much needed break. Heading over to the next town, you carved yourself a place for the next two weeks or more.

After a week into your relaxation a stranger blew into town you never met before. He was a quiet character and it seemed like trouble drew to him like flies to a carcass. He was aloof and refused to speak much. Questions were answered with simple answers and he never gave more information than necessary. Even renting a room in the tavern/inn you were occupying had become awkward as he refused to answer the majority of the owner's questions. Only made worse when he was a coin short of the payment to stay. Without a word you dug into the pockets of your well worn pants before flipping it to the owner with amazing accuracy. He pocketed the man's payment quickly and the stranger turned around taking in your feminine form as you downed the rest of your glass and tipped your hat. Standing from the chair you made your way up the stairs, ignoring the jeers from the men below, your curiosity piquing the more you stayed close to the gray haired man.

A few more days passed by and still the gray haired stranger occupied the same space as you. He kept his distance, though he acted indifferent you could tell he watched his surroundings with an attentive gaze. The card in his forehead was a mystery that was driving you crazy. And even though the numerous tavern girls seemed to flock to him, he had no interest. The only thing he seemed to enjoy was the brawls that would break out, the majority of the time it was men starting arguments with him. The fights didn't last long and he always came out on top. He didn't joke. He didn't laugh. He rarely said a word. And despite yourself you found yourself sitting closer and closer to him every night. He was a mystery and you could feel the sad loneliness rolling off of him in waves. You should have ended your reprieve then and there. Left town and went back to what you were good at. But something deep inside nagged at you. You couldn't leave this man alone and part of you dreaded that you were going to pay a steep price for your curiosity.

The next night after finishing your meal, you went to the bar ordering two drinks and paying for them. The heavy glasses not the only weight as your heavy heart pounded in your chest. The enigma of the man sitting in his normal spot, pushing around the scraps on his plate. He didn't even jump or look up as you thudded the glass before him. After a few seconds, you cleared your throat, loudly. You didn't take kindly to being ignored, especially when you were doing a good deed. Those were rare and if this man had any sense he would be grateful.

He looked up, blue eyes dull and full of caution. It made you suck in a breath as he looked handsome far away, but up close he was stunning.

"Drink," you asked and he grunted in reply. Knocking the chair at his side back with your boot, you parked yourself right next to him throwing your slender legs up and crossing your ankles on the table top. Knocking your glass against his hard, you took a loud long guzzle. You sighed before gazing at him, waiting for the same.

"Not very ladylike are you," he asked simply.

You shrugged, "Not particularly. Can't afford to be in my line of work. Are you going to drink that or not? I paid for it and I won't let it go to waste."

He chuckled, though the mirth didn't make it to his eyes. He finally picked up the glass giving it a healthy swig.

"Good boy," you cooed and he glared.

"You buy drinks for men often?"

"Nope," you picked at your nails. "Even sad puppy dog eyed men get ignored by me. So you should feel very special. You tugged on my dried up heartstrings."

"They're not that dry then," he scoffed.

"Keep talking and that beer will disappear."

"Yeah," he took another drink. "Down my throat anyway."

You glared harder taking your feet off the table to lean in closer, "I may just shove that glass down your throat too while I'm at it."

He bared his teeth, "I'd like to see you try."

You shot upwards, snarling at him before quicker than a flash, he hooked his foot on your chair leg tugging it forward. The sturdy wood hit the back of your knees, crashing you back down into the seat. You sat stunned for a moment, unused to people gaining the upper hand on you.

"Simmer down I was joking," he rolled his eyes. "Whatever you do for a living sure did take your sense of humor."

"And here I thought the sad washed up sap no longer had one," you retorted quickly.

"I may be lost in thought but I can keep up with the best of them," his gaze darted back to you. "Just remember that."

A few tense moments passed by and the patrons that had watched the exchange between you both, started to relax. Even the owner had been tense as he didn't want his establishment wrecked by a fight between the two of you. With your glass empty, you stood to go get another one, when his hand wrapped around your wrist. Pouring the rest of the liquid that remained in his glass into yours. You sat there stunned at the kindness.

"I've had enough," he shrugged.

Your finger circled around the smudged rim as you now didn't know how to act around him. Many people didn't treat you nicely and if they did they always wanted something or take advantage of you.

"Got a name," you finally asked the curiosity not leaving you alone.

"No."

"Where you from?"

"Don't know."

"Well you're just a well of knowledge. Good chat," you rolled your eyes. "Guess I'll just call you bigmouth."

"Please. Don't."

"What," you grinned deviously, "do you prefer idiot? Maybe moron? Boring?"

"I get it," he waved a large hand.

You pouted thinking that would have gotten a rise out of him.

"Just call me Vic," he replied confused where he pulled that name from his mind.

"I think I rather call you bigmouth," you stated.

"Don't care."

Crossing your arms while slumping in the seat, you were starting to get annoyed for the lack of progress. The longer you spoke to Vic, the more your curiosity grew instead of shrinking.

"Soooo wanna share why you got such a long face over here," you asked.

"I rather not," he seemed to shrink further into his shell.

"Fine. I'll tell you something about myself first and then you have to at least give me something."

Vic shook his head but waved for you to continue. He remained quiet letting you have a moment of victory as you wouldn't let up until you got some bit of information from him.

"I'm a bounty hunter," you showed him the badge that normally hung between your breasts under your shirt. "Been all over this country and taken out many criminals. Been needing a break so I've been staying here."

Vic nodded, "I've been travelling myself. Taking out my own class of criminals with my team."

"Where is your team," you asked and immediately regretted it as he stiffened.

He looked away, emotion clogging up his throat a little bit, "They're dead. They were killed thanks to a barmaid who saved herself. I was the only one who survived."

That was one of the main reasons you refused to recruit on your missions. You didn't want to lose anyone and it was hard for you to get along with others very often."

"Sorry to hear that."

He shrugged again, "So I rather travel alone. It hurts less."

"That's the main reason I travel alone. Nobody to mourn and if I get turned into bird food. Then nobody is around to mourn me either."

"That's a sad existence," he replied.

"You chose the same existence as me," you pointed out, laughing into your mug.

He chuckled and this time the amusement made it's way to his eyes, "I guess I did. But it doesn't mean I don't make friends along the way."

"Are you calling me a friend there Vic?"

"We're drinking together aren't we," he pointed to the two mugs.

"I think I'm doing the majority of the drinking here," you said matter-of-factly.

Without another word Vic gave the owner the sign for two more drinks. He nodded getting to work filling two more glasses.

"My hero," you cooed kissing his cheek quickly. Vic sat there stunned for a few moments. You grinned smugly as you felt like you got some revenge for the seat ordeal he just pulled moments ago. Despite never trusting easily, you found yourself comfortable around Vic. He still had so many things left to uncover and you knew as soon as your time was up in town, you both would go your separate ways. But for this night and the last moments you and him would enjoy each other's company. Vic watched you closely and despite telling himself not to get close, he couldn't keep that promise to himself. You were too fascinating to him and he felt himself falling. Needing to know more, needing to get closer. He knew that it would end and that would be that, but for these quiet and blissful moments he would allow himself a chance to enjoy something good and fun. Until he was finally able to find his purpose or he found the death he craved. He hoped to find more people like you through his long journey, but this was your chance and you both wouldn't squander it.

[inuyassa]

Baratie

Sanji x G/N Reader Self-Insert One Shot Warnings: Mild Language / Mentions of Blood (minor injury)

As you ladled the soup into the shallow, glass bowls, you watched Sanji look over the order ticket.  “Huh,” he gasped.  “Why would he request that wine with this soup? Does he even know how wrong that is?”

You shrugged.  “He called ahead and asked for it; he probably wanted to impress his date.  His reservation says he's a lieutenant in the Marines.  He thinks he’s hot shit.”

“Well I refuse to standby while he sullies the taste of our soup!” Sanji wrinkled the paper in his balled up fist, shaking with rage.

“We’re here to serve the customer Sanji, make a suggestion by all means, but try not to make a scene in the dining room.  Zeff will lose his mind if you cause another brawl.”

You carefully placed the bowls on a tray and brought them to the Lieutenant.  As you placed the food down in front of the couple, you saw Sanji making his way towards the table with a bottle of wine…and it was not the one Lt. Fullbody requested.  As you passed by him, you whispered; “don’t make a scene.” Sanji filled their glasses and then took a step back.  He watched as the pink-haired man sipped the wine.  

“So good!” He bellowed, holding the glass to his nose.  “The flavor, and…yes! The aroma.  It is the unmistakable scent from the soil of Micquo of the North Land!  The famous Iturutz Burger Stein! Tell me waiter, am I right?” You watch with bated breath as Sanji slams the bottle on the table and lights his cigarette. 

 “Uh-uh,” he retorted.  Not even close.” Lt. Fullbody gasped, his face flushing with anger and embarrassment.  Sanji, enjoying himself, places his hands in his pockets.  “Eat up,”  he says.  “This dish is best when hot.”  

Sanji makes his way back to the kitchen, catching your eyes as you smirk and shake your head.  “And sir,” he calls back, still facing forward. “My name’s Sanji, I’m the Sous Chef.  All the waiters ran off as of yesterday.”

You shook your head as you followed him through the swinging doors.  “You could have let him have his moment. He was on a date, let him impress the girl.”

Sanji shook his head, taking a long drag from his cigarette.  “No way,” he said.  "I had to rescue that angel from the clutches of bad wine.” No one should be subject to that kind of culinary abuse."

“So dramatic,” you tease.  That’s when Lt. Fullbody’s voice rang through the dining room.  “WAITER!” He called.  

Sanji bit down on his cigarette and growled. “What the hell is it now?” He pushed through the doors, you followed close behind.  Lt. Fullbody pointed to a dead bug floating in his soup.  He complained and blamed the kitchen for such a foul oversight.  Sanji just teased, cracking jokes about the bugs' swimming skills.  The rest of the customers seemed amused with the humor, a low hum of giggles and laughs filled the crowded room.  

That’s when Fullbody lost his cool.  

He slammed his fist against the table so hard, it shattered the frame.  Shards of class from the dishes and wine glasses went flying.  You felt a sharp sting on your face, followed by a warm liquid.  “Damn,” you breathed.  A piece must have hit you.  You wiped your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt, but the cut was deep and fresh blood replced the bit you just cleaned off.

Sanji knelt above the carnage, wasted food was a crime to him, punishable by death in his eyes.  You watched as Lt. Fullbody stomped on Sanji’s hand with his foot.  “Stop!” You yelled, charging towards him.  How dare he even consider damaging those hands!

Sanji held out his free hand, motioning you to stop. Moments later, Sanji landed a solid hit against the tyrant's jaw, sending him flying. The dining room erupted in jeers, screams, and punches as the rest of the kitchen staff got involved.  Once Zeff caught wind of the skirmish, he immediately stopped it.  

You escorted Sanji into the kitchen so he could cool off.  He noticed the blood on your sleeve and glanced at your face.  “You’re hurt?” He gently pinched your chin and turned your head to look at the damage. 

“It’s nothing,” you assured.  “Stray piece of glass caught me after Fullbody went psycho on the table.”

“It looks pretty deep, we should get it covered.”  Sanji grabbed a clean rag and some balm from the first aid station.  He sat you down on the counter and began to disinfect the area.  “Wasting food and scarring such a beautiful face...that monster will pay.”

You gently gripped the cook's wrist, moving it away from your face and forcing him to make eye contact with you.  “Sanji, it’s a cut.  I’ve gotten worse from chopping an onion too fast.  Let it go.”

Sanji sighed.  He finished cleaning your wound and covered it with a bandage.  Then he went to the stove and began to cook.  “Help me get this dish ready,” he said.  “That Marine prisoner out there needs to eat something.”

You smiled.  There he was, the gentle cook of the East Blue. You washed up and helped him prepare the meal..